


Loki and a Kleptomaniac

by Fox_the_Hermit



Series: Avenger Universe Unrelated Short Stories [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A bit sassy, Badass Lavender Off-Screen, Bonus parts for anyone who knows many fandoms, Cameo by two asexual characters, Gen, Harry is very different, Humor, Kleptomania is another word for the DoM, Loki is an idiot, Maybe? Not really, Mentions of Bleach, Silly, What Was I Thinking?, also actually, also there's like no straight people at all actually, i think, not really funny, there's more than two ace characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5835529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_the_Hermit/pseuds/Fox_the_Hermit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki tries to summon Death to deal with his enemies. It doesn't work out like he planned.</p><p>This is unrelated to any of my other works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry blinked. He blinked again. He blinked a third time, just to make sure that what he was seeing was real.

He was no longer walking to the Floo across the Hall of Research, paperwork for the Department of Mysteries, Death Arch Research Division under his left arm, but was now standing in the middle of… New York. In what felt like an alternate universe (he had already been in many of them, and they always felt a little different, just like now). He was also standing in a charred circle with runes burnt into the ground.

And there was a random maniac standing close by, laughing like your stereotypical mental villain. With a golden horned helmet. And armor. And a nice, shiny, pretty scepter. Harry wanted it.

How did _he_ always end up in these situations, Harry wondered, not paying the slightest attention to the raving gold-horned lunatic. Then he heard shouting from other people, and tuned into the conversation that now sprang up between helmet-head and a team of six people - or at least four men, a red-headed woman, and either a robot, or someone in mechanical armour.

“Brother, what have you done!” shouted a blond man in armour. With a big-ass hammer that buzzed with magic. Harry firmly clamped down on the kleptomaniac tendencies that the DoM cultivated in its members, for their trips around the world. Or worlds. This man did not seem insane, and so liberating him of his possessions would not be excusable. The others had no possessions on them that were _near_ anything as interesting, though one man was armed with a bow and arrows, the woman had multiple various weapons stowed away on her body, there was something off about the shortest guy, and the other blond had a very shiny, and very _American-themed_ shield.

“How many times must I repeat myself to you, Odinson! And now that I have summoned Death, I can finally be rid of your and all your pestilential friends! In seconds, I will order him to kill you, so savour your last moments of your lives. After you are dead, I will be free to do whatever I like, for I am now the Master of Death!” raved the lunatic.

The six opposing him turned to scrutinize Harry, disbelief etched into their faces. Harry, in all his jeans-and-jumper clad glory, stared at the lunatic, unsure of what part of him screamed 'unstoppable force of nature that is ready to obey every order given'.

“Excuse me, Mr Horns, but I am afraid you have the wrong being. I am-” Harry paused, thinking on how he would introduce himself _this_ time, “-Mr Sirius Granger, second-rank Agent at the Department of Extreme Kleptomania, manager of the Useless Items and Miscellaneous Storage Section, head of the Sub-Department Catalogue and Examination of Artifacts. May I enquire as to your identity?” He grinned. Taking and combining the names of friends was one of his favourite ways of creating aliases. And he had described his job very well, if he said so himself, even if he hadn't used the  _official_ names for the department.

Everyone gaped at him, but the lunatic took the cake. His jaw had dropped so low, Harry wondered if the guy was a snake hybrid.

“What are you doing here, you mere mortal! How dare you rob me of my victory! How dare you ruin this moment?” Loki started to splutter incoherently, so Harry raised an eyebrow and threw an invisible Stunner. Wandlessly and silently, just as he learned in fourth year in preparation for the second trial. He obviously wouldn’t provide any good information. Or be useful to _anyone_. That much overplayed melodrama was grating on his nerves, anyway. No one could actually speak like that, could they?

The robot? The man? It was still unclear to Harry, which it was. Anyway, whoever it was, asked, “Did you just knock out Reindeer Games with an  _eyebrow_?”

“Yes." After a short pause, where everyone just stared at him, Harry continued. "I will now take my leave. Croaker wanted these reports in my hands, as soon as I could get them to him. Have a nice day.” And Harry disapparated across worlds, to deliver those reports to the grouchy Head of Department. With the scepter, summoned a split-second before departure, clutched in his hand.

 


	2. PS. The Avengers Universe

The Avengers stood, stunned, unable to process the sudden appearance, and equally sudden _dis_ appearance of the self-introduced 'Sirius Granger'. Then Thor rushed over to check that Loki was still alive after - whatever it was that the newcomer had done to him with his eyebrow.

Steve suddenly exclaimed “He took the scepter! He took it with him!”

He pointed at where the sceptre had been lying literally a second ago, and where it was now most clearly  _not_ lying.

Natasha snorted. “He said that he was a second-rank Agent of the Department of Extreme _Kleptomania_ . Which means that he is a member of an agency that makes it their business to _steal_ things, especially shiny, sparkly, glowy things. Like Loki’s sceptre. And you know? Somehow I doubt that we’ll get it back, considering we have no idea how to even summon that guy.”

“But we must retrieve it! It is a dangerous object to leave in the hands of an unknown party,” said Steve. "Besides, Fury would probably blow a gasket that we let him go. Can't we at least figure out what sort of- magic, or technology it was that he used to travel away from here?"

“Spangles, if you know of any way to discern whatever energy Mr Kleptomaniac used to travel, among the muck that Loki’s magic leaves, you are free to try. I agree with Romanov. We’ll never see it again. And, you know, if someone can knock out other people with an _eyebrow_ , I doubt that they’ll need a mind-controlling sceptre to take over the world. And as they haven’t, we should be safe.”

Steve opened his mouth, considered Tony’s words, and closed it. Then he thought some more. “What _will_ we tell Fury?”

  

**On the Helicarrier, in debrief**

“So how did you subdue Loki, and where is his sceptre currently located? I trust that you have it in a safe location, under guard.”

The Avengers exchanged glances, and avoided meeting Fury's eye. After some elbowing, Steve, as the nominal team leader, sighed, and spoke.

“Sir, we were not the ones to… incapacitate him.”

“What?”

“Loki had attempted to summon… something… to aid him in his goal of world domination, but he got someone else instead.”

“Who? And where is this person now?” Fury glowered at them. Furiously. 

“He introduced himself as Mr Sirius Granger, second-rank Agent of the Department of Extreme Kleptomania, manager of the Useless Items and Miscellaneous Storage Section, and the Catalogue and Examination of the Above-Mentioned Items," Natasha rattled off.

“Department of _what_?” Fury asked, slightly incredulous.

Natasha shrugged helplessly. “Kleptomania, sir. According to him, at least.”

“And what happened then?”

“Loki started ranting, as Loki does - said something about his plans being ruined, that the newcomer was a foolish mortal... Mr Granger raised an eyebrow, and Loki fell down unconscious.”

“Where is this _Mr Granger_ now? I want him here yesterday. Or are you telling me _you just let him go?_ ”

“We have no idea sir. He vanished immediately after. With the sceptre.”

“You seriously just _let him go_?” Fury looked at them, disbelief only barely visible on his face. "What the hell do I pay you to do? Let people obtain extremely dangerous weapons and use them however they want?"

“No sir, he just vanished. Silently. Like he had never been there. Poof." Tony mimicked Steve before he could reply. "Also, the pay sucks, if I may be honest.”

Fury frowned, pacing backwards and forwards.

“Stark, can you at least _locate_ Mr Granger?”

“No - since he just appeared from nowhere, and vanished to nowhere, we have no idea where on Earth he could have gone. He might not even _be_ on Earth anymore. And frankly, I am glad to be rid of the sceptre. It’s not our problem anymore, and I doubt Loki’ll be able to get it.” Tony shrugged.

“Are you just going to leave the sceptre with an _unknown?”_

“Considering my cameras couldn’t register his face, and his only distinguishing feature was his atrocious sweater? No.”

Fury exhaled. Slowly. Like he was seriously trying to restrain the urge to murder the lot of them.

“Fine. Keep a watch for him, but leave the matter be for now.”


	3. PS. Harry Potter

Harry dropped off those reports, and then went to the Extra-Universal Item Filing Sub-Department to drop of the shiny sceptre which he was _really_ starting to dislike. It was leaking nasty, mood-altering and mind-controlling magic. The Department would probably decide to disenchant it, and use it as a power source, rather than leave it as the mean mess it was right now.

He left  _it_  at the department, too, and then went to the Break Room area. There were quite a few people there - multiple games of chess, exploding snap, Sepulchasm, and many variations of Mikado were being played by resting agents, and desk workers on break. There was classic rock playing rather loudly in the background, and the room had many models of Impalas scattered around today. The room had already been feeling very Supernatural for a whole week, and he was getting a little bored of the theme - and Supernatural in general. There was a limit on how much blood and gore decor was tolerable within one space, and the Room had been going all out on them. Way beyond the limit. The Break Room area _was_ one of the few where they allowed visitors free entry, if those visitors happened to be close friends to a worker, or helped out the Department frequently, or both, so it may have been trying to scare everyone off on purpose.

Harry plopped on the couch across from Hermione and her fiancé, where they were playing Electric Mikado. The guy was from an alternate universe, to which Harry and Hermione had accidently been summoned by some cultists trying to summon a couple of Eldritch Horrors. Her fianceé was the personification of the town, and worked as the local radio host, and in Harry’s honest opinion, was absolutely _adorable_ when around Hermione. And honestly, they were a good, if... odd match. He adored her more than anything, and could keep up with her on any topic. It was a little difficult for them, as he had to spend a majority of his time in his town, but they managed. Hermione had moved there, and installed a portal to get to and from work without having to use trans-universal disapparition. Although, last time Harry had heard, a new scientist had showed up in town, and the duo were rather actively trying to ask the guy out. At the same time. Harry shook his head. Polyamorous aces had the  _weirdest_ relationship problems.

In Harry's case, it was a lot easier to manage his _one_ relationship. His significant other had to move in with _Harry._ It wasn't for a very positive reason, Harry had to admit. His SO had lost control of something incredibly powerful, and entirely unwanted, which destroyed his entire home universe.  _Not_ including his home and friends, all of which had already been destroyed by a third party.

He was pulled out of his contemplation when Lavender landed on the couch with an explosive. She was so close she was almost literally sitting on him, and was wearing an expression of extreme annoyance across her face, that made Harry hope she wasn't about to start slinging grenades at the next thing to piss her off.

“Ron again?” Hermione asked, looking away from the game, and smiling sympathetically. Lavender had wanted to date Ron in school, but everyone was too busy with the war, and she only got another opportunity four years later. And was now most definitely  _regretting_ it.

“Yeah. He wants me to quit the job and marry him. Quit my job? Hah! _Even if I wanted to, I still wouldn't want to!_ I’d go bonkers without my regular adrenalin fix. I’m thinking about breaking the whole relationship off, honestly.” She groaned, and pulled out a flask containing Mystery Liquid that she downed in one go.

Lavender was one of the Department's most famous Heavy Hitters when it came to Magic and Energy Combat, having once managed to take out an Alternate-Universe Death Star run by Daleks with her wand and a single atomic blaster. Yeah, there was no way she was going to settle down  _anywhere_.

Life was good, Harry reflected, even if it wasn't what he had expected it to be, that fateful day when he and Hermione had followed Sirius through the Veil into the Department of Mysteries proper, rather than stay in the front that they put up for spies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference guide for those who do not know many fandoms:
> 
> Sepulchasm - a game from the 'Doctor Who expanded universe', played by Time Lords. It is strategy and psychokinetic ability based.
> 
> Break Room theme - 'Supernatural'.
> 
> Hermione's fiance - Cecil from 'Night Vale', and both of them are also dating Carlos, because hell yeah for poly relationships!
> 
> Death Star - Star Wars. Very large, moon shaped moving space-station/weapon capable of destroying planets.
> 
> Daleks - Doctor Who. Mutated squids in robotic pepper-pots, who are omnicidal Nazis and are as unkillable as cockroaches. Very scary and progressively hard to kill.


	4. PPS

Once again, Harry suddenly found himself standing in a different universe. As he was rather used to it now, he didn’t even blink when it happened. He blinked a moment later, when he realised that it was that _same Horned Maniac_ as the one he stole the sceptre from. And the same audience even, although they were standing right next to Harry this time. And Harry, clad in blue pyjamas with little clouds and stars, was incredibly out of place in the devastated street that was clearly the victim of too many explosions.

“You! Again! How dare you work against me, mortal!” The Maniac shouted. “What did I do wrong this time, that I must suffer looking at your wretched countenance!”

“Nothing. It’s just that Death redirected all Summoning rituals to me, plus some other people, _ages_ ago, after they had gotten bored of all the alternates of the Winchesters calling them every single time they ran into a problem.” He shrugged helplessly. Honestly, in Death's place, he'd have done the same thing. The Winchesters were a real pain in the ass to deal with, what with their unhealthy codependence and bizarrely bad luck.

Horn-guy gaped. His enemies also gaped. Considering it, Harry thought that the gaping was nothing unusual. After all, what else are you going to do at when faced with a completely unexpected person from a whole different universe?

“By the way, that sceptre I borrowed from you? It was _really_ nasty, and I've regretted it ever since. ‘Ermine has dismantled it, and I’m going to try to give it to Death to keep. The thing is creepy and annoying, and keeps attracting swarms of really annoying insects. Cecil thinks it’s mind controlling them. No one disagrees.”

 The red and gold robot looked at him, and then the face-plate lifted to reveal a man's face. Not a robot, Harry realised.

“Ermine?” he said quietly.

“My field partner, and fellow co-worker. Actual name - Hermione.” Harry felt that giving out her first name wouldn't lead to any harm - not enough to curse or summon her, and it's not like anything would get through her protections anyway.

“In the… Department of Kleptomania?” The red-haired woman asked quietly.

“Yes, but she is better at the magical theory bits than I am.”

“Oh.”

The lunatic, who had been busy ranting the entire time, finally reached a whole new level of sound. Harry and the... heroes, he assumed, looked at him. Then Harry Stunned him.

"Was that you, or did he just faint?" 

“Me. Anyway, I’ll get going then, since he's out of commission, and I'm guessing you guys don't really need me hanging around. ‘Ermine has organised a get-together of all the coworkers from our school-year - Lavender, ‘Aphne, Luna, Theo, Blaise and the others. Plus any of our significant others who are interested in attending. Should be fun. We plan on a multi-universe-bar-crawl. Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, here we come! See ya.”

And Harry disapparated back to his own universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference Guide:  
> Winchesters - 'Supernatural'. My version of Death in this multiverse is completely different, however.  
> Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters - an incredibly, absurdly alcoholic drink from 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'.


	5. PPPS

Harry stood in front of the Volcano of Doom. He considered it closely. Would it be strong enough to destroy these abominable examples of headwear. These fezzes. This atrocious golden horned helmet, stolen from the No-Longer-Horned Maniac, which held awful, awful enchantments and huge amounts of stored magical energy. These awful deerstalkers.

Well, it had been enough to destroy the One Ring, and other atrocious items of clothing before. It should be enough. He hoped. He really, desperately hoped.

 

**Back in the Avengers Universe:**

 

“He took Loki’s helmet!” Tony exclaimed.

“Well… It was shiny.” 

“What is interesting about a helmet? A horned, boring, ornament-less helmet?”

Steve shrugged. “Maybe it _was_ magical?” 

“What, you think it had magic sparkle?”

“I don’t know, but I think that we should restrain Loki before he wakes up.”

“And goes ballistic over his missing helmet? He was ever so proud of it,” Thor added.

“Proud of the Rudolph resemblance?”

“Tony… Can’t you ever be serious?”

“Not when Mr Granger had been right here seconds ago, and then left with the worst helmet I've ever seen. Though, judging by his clothes, he certainly doesn't have much of s taste in clothing.”

“Just… Hold it in, will you? At least until we get this place cleaned up, and sort out Loki.”

“Aye, aye Cap.”

Steve opted to ignore that and said, “Right, let’s get those magic-restraining cuffs on him. Maybe they’ll work this time, now that they have been redesigned. Again."

 

**Back at the Volcano:**

“Damn! It still isn’t melting. Right… That's item 348 on the list of 'possible ways to destroy it' that I can cross out. Now, let’s see if Eldrazi can digest it.

"Ah well, at least it destroyed the rest of the things. Kia's been complaining about my endlessly growing store of 'things-to-be-destroyed' for weeks. At least I don't have to worry about getting kicked out of the house over it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference Guide:
> 
> 'volcano of doom' - Lord of the Rings, the volcano that was in Mordor.
> 
> Fezzes - Doctor Who. The 11th Doctor liked them.
> 
> Deerstalkers - Sherlock.
> 
> Eldrazi - from 'Magic the Gathering', a trading card game with an interesting storyline. They are monsters that arrive in a 'plane' - a world - consume everything, leaving only chalky dust formations behind them. World eating locusts, basically, that spawn from progenitors who are hundreds of meters tall. Possibly a couple miles tall. Scary.


	6. And a little bit more...

This time, Harry was summoned right out of the shower. Well, not quite _right_  out of the shower. He was already wearing pants and a bathrobe, but he had still been in the bathroom, so it _counted_. And it was _that_ universe again. He sighed. At least this time, he wasn't being summoned by the Lunatic, so that was a nice change. Though the man-in-a-mechanical-suit, super-patriot, green troll, ginger, sparky, and shooty were there. As well as some other new faces. And Lunatic, who was behaving far more sedately, and seemed to be siding with the heroes against whoever had summoned Harry.

Who was purple and troll-sized. In armour. Wearing a very gaudy, very shiny glove with four extremely beautiful and glowy gems. _Ooooh._ Harry wanted that. Now.

It had only taken him a fraction of a second to take the scene in. And then the purple troll spoke.

**“Who are you? You are not Death. How dare you interrupt my ritual! I was going to summon her so that she could witness my gift of carnage to her, as I want to court her!”**

Harry blinked. There were so, so many things wrong with that speech. Where... where was he even going to start answering that? Well, addressing each point one by one would probably work.

“Well, you can call me Mr. Granger. And I pretty much Death’s voicemail. Well, _one_ of their voicemails. I'm not the only one stuck with the job, but I guess you just got lucky with me.

"I can also tell you that, a) Death does not like carnage. It produces a lot of work, unhappiness and imbalance in the universe, b) Death is not, hasn’t been and never will be interested in a relationship, and I have no idea why you would even _want_ one with them, and c) Death is not female. Or male. Or at all describable in terms of gender, as they are, you know, an omnipresent manifestation of an integral part of the universe. 'So bugger off,' quoth I their words.”

The troll roared in anger, and Harry suddenly remembered who this was. He’d read up on this universe type in the folder which he got from an alternate universe version of himself, who had been doing the traveling and voicemail thing longer. This was that Thanos guy, and Harry should kill him. He definitely should.

In fact, if he was correctly remembering the footnote at the end of the file, he should “destroy him completely and utterly, and for goodness sake, just _keep that omnicidal creep away from me and the rest of the universe, if you ever meet a version of him, please just kill him”._ And harry was almost completely certain that Death was the one who wrote it, due to how utterly  _horrible_ the handwriting was And by horrible, Harry meant that it shifted a _dozen times_ on the _same page_ from moderately legible, to a drunk-like scrawl that required a decoding book to read. Harry had one. He'd gotten it from the same alternate version of himself, and thankfully it was magically updated whenever a new variation of handwriting was discovered, because, somehow, Death's handwriting always seemed to get progressively worse.

Harry raised his wand, carefully traced a very specific and complex pattern of kanji, and poured his magic into the resulting spell. Which promptly issued a jet of destructive power that turned Thanos to atoms, with only the gauntlet left behind. Dirty, effective, and probably counting as cheating, the spell was based on the exceptionally destructive Bankai of, and created by, a rather pretty blond. The same blond who was probably waiting for him to return from taking a bath, so that they could watch a movie together, eat as many snacks as they could, and fall asleep together on the couch. Right, he needed to get back _pronto_.

“Well, it’s been nice to meet you all again, but I must be off. My darling Kitty is waiting for me, since tonight is _movie_ night,” he said to no one in particular. It would have been a bit rude to leave without saying  _something_.

“You’re a cat person?” asked the guy in the suit.

“Nah, it’s just a nickname. His name sounds like 'Kiska', which means 'kitty' in Russian. Anyway, nice meeting you again, and all, but I _do_ have to get back. Bye!” Harry disapparated back across dimensions to his home, the gauntlet already safe in his pocket dimension. The Avengers looked resignedly at the empty spot he had previously occupied.

“Do you think he took the gauntlet?” asked Steve.

“Certainly. No longer our problem now. Now, let’s clear out Thanos' minions, and then have a party!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virtual sweets to anyone who does guess who Harry's darling is, and a whole sweetshop do the first person!
> 
> Edit:  
> DualSpiral gets the sweetshop.  
> Gollux-ex-Machina gets a pile of sweets, as the second person.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, screw canon in regards to Kisuke's Bankai. I like my version much better.


	7. Holiday Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Winter Celebrations, everyone!
> 
> This chapter hasn't exactly been proofread, so... ooops?  
> And my writing style has changed quite a bit, so this really might not be what's expected. I've even had to go to previous chapters and edit them a bit. I mean, I've written quite a bit since I last wrote anything for this story - though since it's just been the first draft of a longfic that I've been working on, my style hasn't exactly improved very much, just - changed.

Steven Strange was not having a good day. He was, in fact, not having a good _week_. The appearance of a new villain – some magical nutter who called himself ‘Lord Aurum’, backed up by a couple dozen magically powered-up goons and some magical constructs, was hell-bent on summoning warriors powerful enough to raze armies – _was not helping things._

At least he had the Avengers for backup this time – well, not the Hulk or Thor, but the other four were present at least.

He was startled out of his contemplation by the red and gold blur that whizzed past him.

“ _Gandalf! Get your head back in the game, the Palpatine Clone has almost finished his bloody ritual!_ ” Stark’s voice sounded strained through the earbud. “ _You’ve killed the last of those magical animal things, but the minions of darkness have been less inclined to be pieces of cake! And we can’t break through the barrier at all!”_

Strange rolled his eyes. “There’s no use in me even trying anything, the barrier won’t break in time. We should just prepare to deal with whatever comes out of it.”

One of the minions leapt at him, swinging a glowing sword. It was swiftly parried by a glowing shield, and then the Widow, appearing seemingly from mid-air, tazed him with the electric bracelets on her arms. Strange nodded, and Romanoff sped off to the next group of the minions.

“ _Still, can’t you do something with your mojo?”_

“What makes you think I haven’t already tried? He prepared well for us.”

Stark cursed.

“ _Language!”_ came through seconds later, Rogers clearly paying attention to what was being said. That must have been his seventeenth reprimand of the day, if Strange was counting right.

Stark was _probably_ about to draw breath and reply, but before he could, the shimmering purple barrier around the magician and his ritual circle started to glow brightly. Along with the circle.

The magician inside started laughing. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me now! My warriors will destroy you and then-“

He was interrupted by the barrier and the circle exploding outwards in bright light.

Strange hadn’t had time to look away, and ended rubbing his eyes furiously, backing up from the fighting, and hoping no one would take the opportunity to strike.

However, everyone seemed to have gone completely silent – there was no more sounds of scuffles, or shouting, or explosions.

Vision finally returning, Strange looked at where the ritual circle had been. And stared.

A group of people, three men and five women in various stages of undress, were sitting in a circle, mid-way through- a dealing of _cards_? Were they-

“Well, this is a new and unpleasant way of interrupting a strip poker game,” groaned a blonde woman. She was wearing a tank top and shorts that were completely nondescript, apart from the fact that they were mostly covered by weapon holsters. Apart from guns, things that must have been guns despite their bizarre shapes, and a variety of darts, she also seemed to have enough grenades on her person to give the _Hulk_ pause.

“Who are-“ Strange tried to ask, but was interrupted by a dark-haired man, who, unlike the blonde woman, was mostly _un_ dressed.

“Yeah, it’s not like you’re _winning_ or anything, and need time to recover your pride.”

A different voice chimed in. “It’s the principle of the thing, dearest. Being interrupted while winning-”

“Fuck you too, you cheating fox. How any part of you ever could be called a Princess, with your _non-existent code of honour_ -”

Someone tried to clear their throat to interrupt the man’s tirade, but he paid no heed, and even from this distance, Strange could see that half of the group was rolling their eyes, and if his lip-reading was correct – and he wasn’t entirely sure it was, then the ginger woman had whispered to the third speaker “Just shut him up already, can’t you? You know the prat’s just doing this in the hope that you’ll just snog him into silence.”

Strange’s ear piece buzzed. “ _No way, that’s– that dark-haired guy, that’s Mister Granger. And company.”_ Stark’s voice sounded almost awed. “ _Wow. That ginger girl looks hella cu-“_

_“Stay on task, Stark.“_

“Have you met these people before, Rogers, Stark?”

“ _Yeah, we met Granger a couple times. Always when someone tried to summon something ghastly. He always steals the shiniest stuff wean he leaves, so fair warning to you – don’t want anyone stealing your magic baubles, do you?”_ Stark _definitely_ sounded awed.

 _“The guy one knocked out Loki by twitching an eyebrow – SHIELD estimates his threat level to be at highest recorded, considering that he can disengage from a fight at will and is completely unrestrainable_ ” Rogers cut in.

Well, that explained why, perhaps, the spell has summoned him. Strange frowned. That did not explain why his companions were summoned; other than the blonde woman, none of the rest of the strangers were armed, and many were missing quite- a few articles of clothing.

In the intervening time, the villain who had summoned the group seemed to have finally come out of this stupor.

“Warriors! I order you to destroy the Avengers and the Supreme Sorcerer!”

Strange wondered if the guy was in denial of the fact that only one of his warriors looked remotely combat-ready, or if he was banking on something else. Or if he _just hadn’t even noticed_ that the summoned people were not remotely warrior-like.

The strangers exchanged looks.

“Shotgun not dealing with the nutter!” said the supposed Mr Granger.

“Me neither!”

“Nor me!” The ginger, and the pale-haired woman with tattoo-covered arms that was sitting next to her, spoke almost in unison.

“Blaise and me ain’t doing it either! We’re not the combat specialists here! Also, we’re outta here right about now, ‘cause it’s goddamn freezing, and _may I remind me you that I lost my shirt in the last round!_ ” With that said, the man who was speaking grabbed his friend, and just- vanished with a loud crack. Strange stared. He hadn’t seen that method of transportation before.

“Aw, c’mon Ginny, Luna. That guy looks fun. It’d take you what, two seconds to take him down?” The blonde made a face. “And you wouldn’t make as much a mess as _I_ would.”

The ginger – Ginny? - made a face. “Yeah, we’re not letting you do it either, Lavender. Your, ah, _fondness_ for using grenades and explosive puts even Finnegan to shame.”

The magician who summoned them stared. His goons, clearly unable to figure out what they should be doing, also stared – though the shields they’d raised made it impossible for him or the Avengers to take them out.

There was beat of silence, before Black Widow’s voice crackled in Strange’s ear.

“ _Clint, you’re a good man, but I’m leaving you. That Lavender, she’s too hot.”_

 _“Hot damn, Natasha. At least you’re not leaving me for a guy. Will you at least send me holiday cards?_ ” Hawkeye didn’t sound even slightly upset.

“ _You two aren’t even dating!”_

Strange frowned. “Ah, shouldn’t we- get back to fighting?”

“Warriors! You must obey me!” Lord Aurum screamed at them. His goons exchanged looks, and started to back away from any Avengers they happened to be close to, and bunch around their leader.

“Hmmm… Give me a moment to consider that… Nah. Not doing that.” Ginny stuck out her tongue at him, in a display of maturity fit for Stark.

Aurum purpled. The colour really did not go well with the garish orange clothing he was wearing. “I summoned you, you must-“

Then he collapsed like someone had hit him over the head.

Strange blinked. And realised that someone _had_ hit the guy – the other blonde woman was standing right behind where the villain of the week had stood, holding a sword in a way that implied that its hilt had just been introduced to someone’s skull, and had come off as the winner. But he hadn’t even seen her _move_. And the sword looked completely solid, not like a magical construct – where the hell had she gotten it from?

The mooks stared. Then they realised that having their leader knocked out wasn’t the best thing to happen to them, and should be taken as hostile action. However, before even one of them raised their sword, they _also_ got knocked out. The blonde was now standing close enough to Strange that he could now see… that despite the loose and confusing folds of the coat and scarf, the stranger was not, in fact, a woman.

“You all take so long to argue.” The blond twisted his sword and it shimmered into a fan. He plopped down on the asphalt, looking somewhat winded. “I would rather we get home sooner rather than later, and though the mood for the game may well be _ruined_ , I’d advise everyone to remember that there’s still a _fantastic_ amount of alcohol that we need to get through, or did everyone _forget_ that challenge we have going on with the Bravo team? I, for one, don’t want to lose the wager.”

The rest of the party grimaced. “Too right we don’t want to lose the wager to those idiots. Just ‘cause they’re Aurors, they think they’re so much better than literally everyone in our Department,” muttered Ginny. “Right then, let’s get back to getting wasted.” She paused. “Oh, I think I’m also going to call Hermione, see if she wants to join us… She mentioned earlier that she’s looking for an opportunity to get wasted, ever since her fiancé ran off with that scientist bloke, Carlos whatsits, to get married.”

 “Didn’t she run off _with_ them, Ginny? I distinctly remember a three-way wedding, though too much alcohol may be at fault for that.” That was- Luna, Strange guessed.

He whispered, hoping he was loud enough for the earpiece to pick up, but not loud enough to get overheard. “Should we stop them from leaving?”

No one answered for a second.

“ _Well, it’d probably make Fury’s year, but I don’t think it would be a very good idea to try.”_

_“Good idea, Spangles.”_

One of the group laughed loudly.

“No, she wants to get drunk because Malfoy once said she’d marry more than one person, and she said she’d never, _ever_ do it. Coming?” Ginny shrugged, got up, twisted around on the spot, and vanished with a loud crack, followed immediately by Luna.

“Hey! Can I have your number, Miss Lavender?” the Black Widow picked her way through the unconscious-mook-covered street.

Lavender gave her an appraising look, grinned, and pulled out a business card from- somewhere. “You can ignore the business hours, honey – for you, I’ll answer anytime.”

She winked, bowed, and disappeared with a crack.

Granger sighed. “I guess I should get going too, then.” He was about to turn on his heel, but was interrupted before he could leave.

“Planning to leave me behind, are you? I’d like to remind that _someone_ here can’t Apparate.”

“I’m sure you could find your way back home easily enough.” Granger grinned. “You could cheat the universe out of money and it wouldn’t notice, I’m sure a little thing like dimension barriers won’t stop you.”

“Ah, but would I be fast enough to get back in time to help you win the wager? I do have the highest alcohol tolerance, surely you can’t do it without me.” The blond was smiling, but to Strange’s eyes, the smile looked a tiny bit strained.

“I’m not sure ‘can’t get drunk at all’ qualifies as _tolerance_ – but it's sure as hell useful when it comes to bets like this.” Granger teleported with a loud crack to the blond’s side.

Then he looked up at Strange, and the Avengers that had gathered next to him. “Oh hey, it’s you lot! Plus one weird caped person I _don’t_ know. Nice seeing you again. Adieu!”

Then both he, and his friend, vanished.

Strange suddenly remembered Stark’s warning, and checked that he still had the Eye on him.

It, thankfully, was still in place.

“ _Well, I suppose we should truss up Lordy Goldy and his mooks, and figure out how to explain to SHIELD that a bunch of strip-poker playing drunk strangers dealt with our problem, and how we couldn’t even question any of them.”_

Trust Stark to ruin the moment. 

 


End file.
